If it is Meant to Be
by MindoftheWriter
Summary: A story of an eluded to past about Ralof and a girl he falls in love with in Helgen.
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note:** A story built off Ralof's eluded history in Helgen. It was just one line, but sometimes that's all it takes. The plot at the end doesn't quite follow the story in Skyrim, but whatever. also, I am not sure if I got the ages completely correct, but it's just my best guess. Writing a review with some feedback would be greatly appreciated. Thanks and enjoy! If you liked it, i will most likely write a sequel that I will publish probably publish in a day or three.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

The morning was frigid, as always. A thick mist lay low to the ground, shrouding everything more than twenty feet away. The ancient pine trees seemed to creak without any wind causing them to sway. The forest was still. Silent. Ralof's favorite time of day.

He crept silently through the woods, bow in hand and quiver on his back. He had crafted the bow himself, since his father would not buy him one, claiming it was 'a waste of time' while he could be helping him at the mill. In Ralof's mind, working at the mill was a far greater waste of time than hunting was. Perhaps it was because he was 14, and still quiet ignorant.

He was tracking a particularly large deer this morning, probably a buck. He had shot and killed one of the four rabbits he had seen this morning. He was not a very good marksman, but he claimed to his father he was getting better. His father would have no word of it.

Ralof continued following the signes, tracks in patches of snow here, a snapped sapling there, droppings yonder. The local huntsman had taught him how to track, which was one thing Ralof found he was satisfactory in. This deer was proving easy to follow; it left many telltale signs where it had been. From what he could tell, it had been there rather recently as well. As he went on, the sun started to slowly rise and some of the mist started to dissipate. From the position of the sun, Ralof saw it was around 8:30. His father wouldn't be wondering his whereabouts for several hours.

Ralof soon came to a clearing and was about to pass through it when he stopped dead in his tracks. At the other end of the clearing, nibbling on a snowberry bush.

Ralof instantly went into a crouch and slowly and gracefully drew an arrow from his quiver. He brought his bow into a horizontal position and nocked the arrow. He drew back as far as he could and took careful aim at the beast's heart. He let the arrow fly. He felt the bow roar to life in his hands, the string violently vibrating after the shot. There was a satisfying sound as the arrow hit the buck, but not in the heart. The arrow had flown to high and pierced its flesh just above its heart. In an instant it took off, bolting into the woods.

Ralof, determined not to lose this deer, for the third time, took off in an all-out sprint after it. He dashed through the woods, branches whipping at his face, saplings and fallen logs hindering his pursuit. He was losing it. Anger spurred him onwards. _I am _not_ going to lose it again this time!_ He thought angrily to himself.

As Ralof gained on it, something peculiar happened. The deer just stopped dead in its tracks. It took a few desperate and unsure staggers forward before halting completely. It swayed for a moment, making low huffing noises, then fell to the ground with a heavy _thud_. Ralof smiled to himself. His first deer. Now how was he going to bring it back to Riverwood?

He decided that instead of taking it all the way back to his home in Riverwood, he would just take it back to his hunting cabin instead. Doing that still took the better part of two and a half hours. When he finally reached the little cleared away area that held his small cabin, shack would be a more appropriate title; Ralof's bones ached with exhaustion. He heaved the buck down against the outside wall of the wooden shack and collapsed in the cot inside. The shack was very simple, with no door, glassless windows, and many a hole in the roof. It had a desk in one corner with a chest full of supplies beside it and a crude hide cot in another corner. It was small and one roomed, but cozy enough and well away from the road and the prying eyes of others. Ralof would often come here to seek solace from his duties in Riverwood. It was also very convenient for a place to go after a long hunt. It was perfect.

Ralof lay for a moment in the cot, very pleased with himself for bringing in the deer. He unslung his bow and quiver and hung them on a hook near the door. He refastened the steel dagger on his belt, as it had a habit of sliding down too far, and was about go about skinning the deer when he membered what time it was. _Shit!_ He thought to himself as he frantically ran from the shack. _I had to help father at the mill today! Oh he's not going to be happy with me…._

And indeed he was not.

"Where have you been?" his father demanded. He was leaning heavily on his woodcutting axe, his face beaded with sweat. Ralof and his father stood in the fenced area behind the mill where the wood was chopped and stored.

"I was in the woods," Ralof said evenly, not showing any signs of fear or contempt.

"In the woods," his father mused. "I don't suppose you actually _shot _anything in the woods, eh?"

"I did. I shot a deer," Ralof said. His father laughed. It was no use. He didn't believe him.

"Of course ya' did. Now go get that axe of yours and get to work. I want those stacks chopped and restacked by the end of the day, ye' hear? Get to it!"

"Yes father."

Ralof sauntered off to get his axe. As his father turned to go, he saw his wife standing at the entrance to the mill. She briefly greeted Ralof as he passed her then approached him.

"Arlen, you shouldn't be so hard on the boy. He's only fourteen."

"Aye, but he is strong. He is also noble, I will give him that. But it is time he start taking some responsibilities of his own."

"Yes but you could be a little easier on him."

"Marie, I am his father. My father did the same for me when I was a boy. Ralof is strong. He can handle it." Marie looked indifferent, but said no more only sighed and nodded. Arlen turned back to his work.

Ralof was silent at dinner. He was tired and ate almost ravenously. Anger at his father still burned hot inside him. He barely looked at him throughout the meal. Marie and his sister, Gerdur, were also picking up on his mood. Several times Marie opened her mouth as if to say something, but stopped herself before she did. Ralof excused himself and went to his room he shared with Gerdur. When his sister came into go to sleep, she asked,

"Are you and father in an argument?"

"No," Ralof said flatly.

"Are you mad at one another?"

"No."

"Well then what is it?"

"Gerdur—"

"Come now, I just want to kno—"

"Gerdur—"

"What?"

"We're fine. Were both just weary, that's all. Now let it be." His sister looked unsatisfied but nodded and didn't say more. She let her long blonde hair down and crawled under the fur blanket on her bed and swiftly fell asleep. Ralof followed her lead and climbed into his own bed, sleep quickly swallowing him into darkness.

The next morning was Sundas, and Ralof had the day off. It was notably warmer that day; at least it was warm for a Nord like Ralof who was accustom to frigid temperatures. The sun shone off the morning dew in the grass, catching its golden light, making the forest look like a haze of green, brown and gold. It was quiet beautiful.

On this particular morning, Ralof was armed with his bow, but was not really hunting as much as he was just wandering the forest aimlessly. He was enjoying the stillness of the forest, when a blood curdling shriek pierced the air. Ralof's heart raced and without so much as a second thought, took off in the direction of the scream. After he had run a few paces, he heard the scream again, only this time sounding choked. He found a little path leading to a spiked wooden fence and he sprinted for the gate. Inside, he looked upon a horrible seen,

He was in what looked like to be an overgrown yard with a weathered shack in the back of the lot. In the middle of the grove, stood a Hagraven and clasped in its claws was a girl. She was suspended in midair by the Hagraven, it holding her by the neck. A few more seconds, and her own weight would surely kill her. The girl caught sight of him and screamed a cry of help. Acting on instinct, Ralof nocked an arrow and fired. The arrow struck the Hagraven in the thigh and it howled in pain and dropped the girl. Ralof tried to nock another arrow but the Hagraven was too fast. It advanced on him with the speed of lightning and he barely had enough time to dodge and block its frantic attacks. Quickly, he drew his iron dagger from his belt and counter attacked the creature. He cut its arms, its chest, anything he could put his blade on. Finally, he saw the perfect opening after he blocked its attack and staggered it. He slashed at its neck and a hot trickle of blood spewed from the wound. The flesh of the Hagraven was weak and frail, and the sharp dagger easily sliced through it. The strike was powerful and clean, and lopped right through the thin neck of the Hagraven. Ralof watched disgusted as the head fell to the ground and rolled away.

Ralof was breathing hard. He had never done a thing like this before. It was disgusting it was life threatening it was… exhilarating. Thinking for a moment, he decided he had never before felt this sense of being truly alive than he did with the Hagraven just now. Ralof looked up from the corpse and realized for the first time that the girl was still there. And realized how beautiful she was.

"Gods be praised, thank you!" the girl said, gratitude ringing in her still slightly choked voice. She gently massaged the place on her neck where the Hagraven had held her. Other than a few red marks, she seemed unscarred from her encounter.

Ralof was surprised and momentarily stunned. "Aye you're welcome…" he mumbled.

The girl must have been about his age, maybe a year older. To Ralof, she looked to be Breton, but he couldn't be sure. She had long hair that fell over her shoulders that shimmered slightly in the sun. She had stormy grey eyes and pouting lips. She had a slight figure and she was a little on the shorter side that suggested her Breton heritage.

"How did you find me?" she asked walking across the yard to him.

"Well, your screams could probably be heard over a mile away." She blushed a little.

"I'm Susan."

"Ralof." Susan briefly made a face.

Susan briefly made a face. "Nords and their funny names," she teased. Ralof reddened. Had it been any other person, he would have become defensive and angry.

"Is this how you treat your saviors?" Ralof teased back.

Susan thought for a moment. "No."

"Well thank the Divines. Where are you from Susan?"

"Helgen."

"Helgen," Ralof repeated. "And what are you doing all the way out here?"

"Well I was collecting ingredients for one of my potions and I kind of wandered off and got a little… lost,"

"I see. Well, Helgen is not _too _far from here so I suppose I could assist you coming home so you won't… wander off again." Susan smiled.

"T'would be lovely."

Susan spoke most the way back to Helgen, a three hour walk from Riverwood. She spoke of home and that she was here with her ma' and da' and such. Ralof listened quietly and carefully, remembering each detail. She spoke softly and carefully, and with an unmistakable High Rock accent. He nodded and agreed at the appropriate times (or disagreed). He found it hard to think clearly while she spoke to him. He grieved when they neared Helgen, for they had to part. Susan stopped a ways up the road from the main gate.

"Thank you again, for savin' me back there. I would have surely been dead if you had not come along."

"Say nothing of it, m'lady." Susan blushed when he called her that. Without Ralof knew what was happening, Susan lightly wrapper her arms around his neck to draw him closer and kissed him. The kiss was brief but not sisterly. Her lips were soft and warm, feeling especially pleasant in the chilled air. She drew back, looked slightly embarrassed for a moment then said,

"Come find me in Helgen some time, if it pleases ye'."

"I think I will." Susan smiled, then turned and walked on down the road into the village. With that, Ralof made his way back to his own Riverwood.

Six days later, Ralof and his friend, Hadvar, were once again, doing chores at the mill.

"Ralof, watch it with that axe, will ye'! You almost took my head off!" Hadvar yelped and sidestepped out the way of one of Ralof's swings.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"You got something on your mind, my friend? You seem a bit distracted."

"Do I? Sorry. No, nothing is on my mind," Ralof said absently. Hadvar looked at him unsurely then went back to work stacking the wood. They worked in silence for a bit.

Hadvar broke the silence. "Did you see those Imperial soldiers come through the town yesterday?"

Ralof looked up. "Yes, what of them?"

Hadvar shrugged. "They were patrolling the roads for bandits. I wouldn't mind joining the Imperial army someday."

Ralof grunted. "Wouldn't be too bad I guess. They do keep us safe from bandits and such."

"Yeah," Hadvar agreed. He gave up trying to make conversation.

Finally, Arlen called it a day and told the two boys to go home for the remainder of the afternoon. Ralof could barely help but bolt home and wash his face before bolting out the door again.

"Where in the name of Talos are you going?" Gerdur demanded as he left.

"Nowhere. If mother or father asks, I'm with Hadvar." Gerdur nodded. He could count on her.

By the time he reached Helgen, the sun was just about to set. As he passed through the town, he couldn't help but feel it was rather deserted. As he reached the far end of it, he started to hear the sound laughter and clinking glasses and music coming from the local inn. He went in.

Inside was warm and lit by the roaring fire in the fireplace. People were gathered around the floor dancing and singing while bards played a fast and upbeat tune on their stringed instruments. The room was full of merriment and festivity. Ralof smiled, but saw no sign of Susan. He sat down at the counter and ordered mead. Only then did he spot her sitting at the other end of the counter, watching the dancing, a little smile playing on her lips. She was dressed in a cinnamon colored dress and her hair was held back in a loose braid. Ralof's heart rose.

He seated himself beside her at the counter. At first her expression was of hostility then she realized who it was and it transformed to surprise and delight.

"Ralof! I hoped you'd come one of these days."

Ralof smiled. "Here I am m'lady." Susan smiled.

"What took you so long? If not for alchemy, I would have gone mad from boredom."

Ralof snorted. "You keep messing with those potions you _are _going to go mad."

Susan smirked. "Shut up." She looked around the room in half bewilderment."We didn't do a lot of this back in High Rock," she said. "You Nords are rather funny in your traditions."

"It's the end of the working week. It's a good a reason as any to celebrate." The bartender brought Ralof his mead. Susan made a face.

"What?" Ralof said.

"You drink that stuff?"

"Yes. I guess people here in Skyrim started having a drink before people in High rock do?"

"Yes."

"Well, you're in Skyrim now, so here, have some. Hey, can I get another one?" The bartender nodded and smiled slightly. Susan shook her head.

"No—really, I'm fine."

"Oh come now, it's not all that bad. Actually, there seems to be juniper in this. It's quite good." Susan looked unsure for a moment. Then, she took the mug, took a good swig and set it back down.

"I love juniper," she said. Ralof had a good laugh.

"That's my girl."

The night went on. Ralof ordered more drinks for both of them and used most the money he had made that week at the inn. The music didn't die down at all, just became livelier as the night went on. They found themselves stopping and clapping to the rhythm of the music the bards played and joined the merriment. At one point, Ralof convinced Susan to come dance with him.

"Do you even know how to dance?" Susan asked skeptically.

"No."

"Then how are we going to dance?"

"Show me." Susan hesitated a moment then took his hand.

She led him out to the floor where she then led him into a basic dance. They danced to the beat; they're bodies meeting as they gracefully moved this way and that across the floor. The violins and lyres picked up in rhythm and the crowd was starting to stomp there feet to the tune. Soon, the music was overpowering, enveloping them in a sound that seemed to be alive in their bones. Gradually, all eyes were turning to them, as Susan led him through the dance, moving gracefully alongside him. Ralof realized he recognized this particular dance and started to match her movements with ease. The music was gradually increasing tempo and Ralof had to work a lot harder to keep in time with it. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he was breathing hard. He could tell Susan was as well. The song was coming to an end. Ralof's instinct told him what to do. As the final notes were being played, he held Susan then swiftly let her go raising his arm so she could spin once before falling and him catching her in the crook of his arm. Her chest heaved in and out as she caught her breath from the dance and her eyes stared deeply into his own ones. They didn't even realize the attention of the entire room was on them. Everyone had stopped what they were doing to watch as two young people had performed such an intense yet elegant dance. Perhaps it was the Juniper Mead (Susan would later claim so) but before they knew what they were doing, they were kissing. In front of the entire population of Helgen. Ralof's eyes were closed and so was Susan's. Her lips felt soft against his own and he never wanted this to end. At first it was only a single clap from one person. Then a few more people joined in, clapping. Then about half the people joined in, clapping in applause. Soon enough the entire inn was alive again with clapping and cheering for the two, as they went on kissing, oblivious to the world around them. When they finally broke apart, they look around them and both turned redder than they had ever been before.

"Oh dear," Susan whispered in his ear. "Isn't this something to remember?"

Ralof smiled and laughed. "Aye. 'Tis."

That night, he walked her home again. Thankfully, her family wasn't at the tavern when they were there, so the missed the whole event. Both would have been mortified if they had seen them kiss. She walked up her porch and leaned on the rail, looking down at him with an absent minded admiration. She seemed to shimmer in the light of the moon, her hair turning a silvery color and her eyes seemed to glow.

"You dance well, Ralof of Riverwood."

"As do you, Susan of High Rock."

"Helgen."

"Eh?

"Susan of Helgen," She corrected him. She smiled stunningly then with that turned and went into her house. Ralof felt weak in the knees. Oh, what a night to remember.

When Ralof finally arrived back at his house (he didn't feel comfortable renting a room or camping somewhere, he just decided to walk back along the long road to Riverwood) he fell into his bed. He lay there, thinking of Susan, a warm sensation spreading around his body. He wanted her. He wanted her badly. He thought of the way they kissed in the tavern, how soft her lips were, how warm her mouth was. He thought of the moment when she was about to go, when she was on the balcony and how beautiful she looked, she made him forget all of his troubles for a while. He would surely go see her in the morning. There was no question.

Ralof rose early the next morning. He packed a loaf of bread and some weak wine and was about to leave when he saw a note stuck to a post outside his house. It read,

_Lake Llinalta. By the three strange standing stones._

He understood. And that was just down the road from here. Smiling merrily to himself, he set off down the road.

Susan stood with her back to the road as he approached. She looked out over the lake and at the little island in the middle.

"Hello, m'lady," he said as he approached.

"Oh, don't you think we're a little passed formalities?"

"Yes but you enjoy it when I call you so." Susan smiled with adoration.

"Yes."

"I brought a breakfast… of sorts."

"Are you trying to get me drunk again?"

Ralof was slightly taken aback. "No. Is it still necessary? Because if so I could—"

Susan laughed. "No—its fine. Really."

"Alright."

They clambered down the rocky cliff and walked along the shore until finding a suitable place to sit and eat. They ate in silence, admiring the beauty of the lake. It shimmered like a thousand sapphires in the sun and the water looked clean and clear.

"For being so damn cold, Skyrim sure is beautiful."

Ralof grinned. "Yes it is so."

"I want to go out there," Susan pointed to the little island in the middle of the lake.

"There's nothing out there but a few trees. Besides, the water is freezing. Its snow runoff," Ralof said skeptically.

"I don't care much. Besides, it's warm-ish out today. We'll dry relatively quickly." Ralof sighed.

"Alright." Susan beamed.

"I'm not a very good swimmer, just so ye' know."

"That's fine," Susan said and pulled off her shirt. Ralof's heart jumped. She was wearing nothing but a silvery shift underneath. When she finished undressing, she gestured to him.

"Come on then." He undressed and followed her out into the water.

They lay on the little island, bathing in the sun, fingers entwined.

"Ralof?"

"Hm."

"I need to tell you something." He rolled over on his side to face her.

"Yes?"

"I needed to tell you… well…. My father has done some very bad things. And for our safety, we are leaving Skyrim." Ralof sat up.

"What?" he cried.

"I—I'm sorry it has to be like this. But listen, if it's meant to be, then it's meant to be, And if it is, then we will see one another again. Ok?"

Ralof shook his head. " No… no it is not ok Susan… Damnit, I've just never felt the way I feel about you before. I don't want this to end. I don't want you to leave." Susan sat up and he held her in his arms, and she brushed the stray hair from his eyes.

"Nor do I. I've come to love Skyrim. I've even come to love this damnable cold. But most of all, I've come to love you." She kissed him. He leaned over her, covering her. They pressed together on the soft grass on the island, their body's one. He could feel hers pressed against his, the soft curves of her chest and her breath against his face. He never wanted this to end.

The next morning she was gone. Ralof didn't even bother to get out of bed. Or eat. Or work. Or speak. He just lay there, thinking of Susan. He missed her already, the smell of cinnamon and burning wood. He missed the softness of her hair; he missed the feel of her body. He missed her little Breton accent, the way she pronounced her _t_'s more sharply and the way her words were sometimes clipped. He missed just being around her, not having a care in the world. He wanted her back. But there was nothing he could do. Deep and alien ache set in over his heart, but not a single tear fell. No, he would never let that happen.

Eventually, Ralof finally rose from his bed. It had been three days since she had left. His heart was heavy and seemed to physically weigh him down. It was late afternoon. He wandered towards the forest, along the way crossing his father in the road.

"Where have you been?" Arlen hadn't even come into his room to check on him in the last few days. Gerdur had told his mother that he had fallen ill. In a way, it was true, but he feared it may be much worse than that.

He barely so much as glanced up at his father as he made his demand; he just kept slowly walking towards the forest, numb to the world.

_**FOURTEEN YEARS LATER**_

Ralof sat in the back of carriage being pulled by an Imperial horse alongside three other prisoners, one asleep. Among them was Ulfric Stormcloak himself, though he was heavily bound and gagged. Ralof had an impending sense of doom as they approached their destination. His hands were bound and he knew it would useless to struggle, for he knew an archer would shoot him in an instant. He feared this was the end. Ah, the other prisoner woke up. He addressed her briefly then remained silent. He looked at the man beside him. He claimed he was a horse thief caught stealing by the empire.

"Where are ye' from, horse thief?" The man looked up.

"Why do you care?"

"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home."

"Rorikstead. I—I'm from Rorikstead."

As they neared their destination, Ralof hear the Imperial soldiers calling to each other from atop the walls. As they entered the town, Ralof was shocked to discover he was in a familiar place.

"This is Helgen…. I used to be sweet on a girl from here. I wonder if Mi'lod still makes that mead of Juniper Berries…" That was when the prisoner who was previously asleep was staring at him intently. It was a woman. And a quite pretty woman at that. Not until she spoke did he realize who she was.

"Ralof." Ralof's heart skipped a beat. He stared at her, completely shocked and dumbfounded. The only words he could manage were,

"Hello m'lady."


	2. Reunion

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Bethesda owns it all. Not even Susan, for Susan is actually based on a character from a Stephen King book, The Dark Tower.

Authors Note: I am so sorry I haven't updated this in forever! I've just been so busy lately with High School entrance exams and such... I promise I will try to update more frequently. It feels so good to finally get this published... For some reason, this was so freaking hard to write. I want to give special thanks to those who reviewed last time! You guys rock! You made me follow through with this one! Please review! I read every last one!

Ralof scarcely remembered the events that had taken place at Helgen. He remembered being utterly shocked to find Susan in the carriage along with him as they rode into Helgen, the place where they had met, the place where they will die. Susan was equally surprised to find Ralof taken prisoner along with her. He could tell by her expression she had a million questions she wanted to ask but she old said one thing.

"Do you remember what I said to you at Lake Llinalta? On the little island?"

"Aye, I do," Ralof said. He didn't mention that after she had left, he hung onto those words for dear life, some days them being the only things keeping him going. "You said that if it was meant to be, then it will be. And if it is, then one day we will see each other again," he finished, trying to keep the lump in his throat out of his voice. Susan smiled a smile that was tainted with sadness and grief. They clasped each other's hands.

"Then it is meant to be so. Even just for a short while," she said gravely. Lokir, the horse thief that was prisoner with them, averted his eyes from the two.

"This isn't right, this isn't fair…." He mumbled to himself over and over.

"Face your death with courage, horse thief," Ralof murmured to him.

They came to a halt towards the back of the town, along with a few of the other carriages transporting the other prisoners. The Imperial soldiers hustled them out of the wagons and assembled them in a courtyard outside of a stone tower. In front of the door to the tower, a shin high block stood. Behind it stood a huge man wielding a frightening axe, his face hidden by a mask. He and Susan climbed down from the carriage and fell into line with Ulfric Stormcloak and Lokir. Two imperials stood in front of them, checking their names off on a piece of parchment.

"Imperials and their damn lists," Ralof muttered bitterly to himself.

"Next prisoner," one of the two Imperials said. Ralof could tell she was a captain by her the red decoration on her helmet. They shuffled forward.

"Ulfric Stormcloak of Windhelm," the second Imperial called. Ulfric stepped forward, his eyes shooting daggers at the Imperials. "Lokir of Rorikstead." Lokir cracked, his moral finally shattering. He cried out as he attempted to run, sprinting up the road towards the entrance in hopeless desperation. Ralof winced as he was mercilessly felled by an archer. _May your soul rest in Sovngarde, my friend_, Ralof thought. As he stepped forward when his name was called, he was astonished to see Hadvar, his old friend, to be the Imperial holding the clipboard. Ralof said nothing to him, just stared as coldly as he could at the man, hating him with every fiber of his being.

He joined his fellow Stormcloaks assembled in the yard, keeping as close as he could to Susan. For about to be executed, her face was rather devoid of emotion. He tried not look at the faces of his fellow soldiers who were grimly awaiting their deaths. He remembered one of his fellow Stormcloaks yelling at the preacher to stop her yammering as she went on and on about the Great Divines. He wanted his death to be quick. As fearless in death as he was in life.

Thankfully, Ralof was called before Susan was. He knew he wouldn't be able to bare watching her being brutally killed by the masked man's axe. His name was called. He walked courageously up to the beheading block and stood defiantly before being shoved to his knees by the officer. He looked up at the hulking man, knowing death was inevitable to come. This was it, the end of the line. Sovngarde awaits.

Then the dragon appeared. First it was a strange noise like a shriek. Then, almost out of nowhere, a dragon landed atop the stone tower. For a moment, everyone was stared at in a shocked horror as it seemed to survey them. After a moment, a shout was heard from someone unknown and they were snapped out of their shock.

"Dragon!" the man roared.

The dragon felt it was the perfect time to Shout, staggering everyone in the courtyard. After Ralof had recovered from the dragon, he took the opportunity to leap up from his knees and dash to a dazed Susan and, half dragging half pulling her to one of the stone watchtowers.

Once inside, they found Ulfric had already taken cover inside the tower.

"It's a dragon, just as in the legends," Ralof remarked to him.

"Legends don't burn down villages," Ulfric said gravely. Ralof nodded. He grasped Susan's hand and briskly led her up a spiraling staircase leading to the second floor of the tower.

"We have to get out of here," Ralof said urgently.

"Do you have a plan?"

"Not quite yet…"

As they were about halfway up the stairs, the wall ahead of them was completely blown away by the dragon. Huge chunks of rock the size of boulders cascaded down into the tower, crushing an unfortunate soldier who had been unlucky enough to be standing there. His screams could not be heard over the roar of fire that ensued. Ralof instantly threw his body over Susan to shield her from the inferno. Miraculously, they were unhurt, save for a few minor burns. The dragon seemed to lose interest and went off to attack a different target for now. It had left a gaping hole in the wall.

"Susan, hold onto me," Ralof commanded. Susan did. Ralof neared the edge of the whole and looked below. If he jumped would he make through the hole in that roof below? Perhaps….

"On three jump through the hole."

"Are you insane?" Ralof didn't reply. They jumped.

They hit the floor boards of the second story of a house hard and rolled, Ralof taking most the impact. His legs felt jarred, but had no time to register the pain. They had to keep moving.

The rest was a blur. They ran through the house and out into the street where they followed until they came to another courtyard where they went down into the keep. Inside they dashed through the dungeon collecting anything they needed along the way. They ran into several Imperials which they dispatched without too much difficulty. They had the element of surprise on their side. Once they left the man-made part of the dungeon, they stumbled through the dark cave tunnels until; finally, they burst into daylight.

They both breathed in deeply, cherishing the fresh air. No sooner had they left the dungeon when a black shadow flitted across the sun. The dragon. Ralof crouched behind a rock and Susan followed his lead. They waited until it had disappeared out of sight.

"Looks like it's gone for good this time," he said cautiously peeking around the rock. Once they were sure it was in fact gone, they started making their way back to the road. As they traveled along, they soon reached the three guardian stones that stood facing Lake Llinalta, the last place they had seen each other, fourteen years ago. Susan stepped towards the stones in a sort of awe. She had seen the stones before, but this time one seemed to be… calling to her. She took a few tentative steps towards the one with the image of the mage engraved upon it.

"Go on m'lady, don't be shy. Choose one," Ralof said, a smile touching his lips. Oh, how long it had been since he had smiled. Susan looked unsure.

"Have you already yours?"

"Aye, long ago." Susan glanced at the other two for a moment then placed a palm on the stone with the mage. Almost instantly a beam of light appeared from the top, ascending to the heavens. After several moments it was gone. Ralof was slightly amused.

"Typical Breton," he said under his breath. Susan shot him a look but didn't truly seem to care. Once she was done, she took his hand and he led her down the road towards Riverwood.


	3. The War Abridged

Disclaimer: I dont own anything (still.)

Author's Note: To make up for my bad update frequency, I have updated twice in two days! Ha! Well... this hardly counts because its so short but its kinda like backing it up and giving you some background before i go into the main part of the series. By the way, this and the last chapter aren't really related to the first chapter, its kind of like a short story, then I'm deciding to go on with it. Why? Because I can. The real reason? Because I have a really cool story idea. Please Review! I am completely open to constructive criticism!

Ralof lay on the straw in his cold cell, staring up at the ceiling. Being barred away in this war prison gave him much time to think over the events of the last few months. And once again, Ralof found that he was inevitably going to die.

They had lost the war. After Helgen, he and Susan had lain low in Riverwood for about a week before making their way to Windhelm where Ralof rejoined the Stormcloaks, and Susan decided to join them. She was no good with a blade, and a worse archer, but her skills with magic were invaluable and the Stormcloaks welcomed her with open arms. At first, the troops were unsure of letting a Breton woman into their ranks, but she had proven herself early on when fighting a battle in The Reach.

At first it seemed like they were going to win the war. The Stormcloaks were winning battles in the Whiterun Hold and in The Reach. Then the Imperials took The Rift. Without having to worry about their army being attacked from behind, Windhelm became an easy target for the Imperials to attack and they swarmed it like flies. In the end, the Stormcloaks were defeated. But losing the war was only the start.

Ulfric Stormcloak was meeting with the Jarl of Falkreath when he was ambushed by an Imperial attack party on the his trek back to Windhelm. He and his soldiers had just about defeated the Imperials when they heard a shriek and looked to the skies. There they saw a dragon. Another bloody dragon.

All bows were aimed skyward, trying to bring the beast to the ground. The soldiers fought hard, making slow progress at chipping away at the dragon with anything they could throw at it. For once, Imperials and Stormcloaks alike fought side by side. Eventually, enough arrows had pierced the wings that it could no longer hold itself in the air. That was when they decided to strike it head on. With Ulfric in the lead, they charged, while the beast swatted wildly at its assailants with its sharp talons and scaled tail. After losing many men, the beast had finally been slain. Ulfric and his men stood breathing heavily around the corpse, thick droplets of blood dripping from their weapons. For a moment there was a tranquil silence, nothing moved, there was no shout or battle cry from one of the men, they all just stared at the corpse of the hulking beast. Then, something peculiar began to happen.

As they watched, the corpse began to deteriorate, burning with a sort of weird, silky flame. Flames drifted into the air, like burning feathers. The corpse seemed to be in the process of its scales being stripped from its bones, so that all was left was its skeleton. As it did so, it's very essence seemed to be flowing from and… into Ulfric. The man stood in shock, his usually stoic expression vanished, replaced now by one of disbelief. The essence looked like some sort of wind that swirled in spirals up his body, completely enveloping Ulfric. When it had settled, there was another silence; though this time it was eerie.

"Dragonborn." The whisper's origin was unknown, but it gave voice to what they all were thinking.

When the Imperials had taken Windhelm, they knew what Ulfric Stormcloak was. They knew he was the only hope for humanity. They slaughtered him never the less.


	4. The Biting Cold

**Author's note:** Wow. I am a truly horrible person. I haven't updated in forever... I disgust myself. I'm sorry. I know it's a little short and slow, but I promise it'll pick up soon. And I WILL get better at updating. Seriously people, review. You people who did review the last couple of times freaken rock. I'm open to constructive criticism. Again sorry its short, but sometimes you need a good bridge.

The iron bars clanged loudly against one another when the door of Ralof's cell was thrown open. Two Imperials stood in the hall, waiting for him to get up.

"Prisoner," one of the Imperials said. "Come with us."

Ralof got groggily to his feet, his bones aching from being on the hard ground.

"Why?" it was more of a demand than a question.

"You're being transferred to Solitude."

"Ah… great," Ralof said with sarcastic distain. "Why not just execute me here in Windhelm?"

"Shut up," one of the Imperials snapped and shoved him down the hall. One too many questions. As they moved along out of the Windhelm prison, Ralof noticed all the other Stormcloak prisoners were being hustled out of their cells as well. Looks like everyone who wasn't killed in the battle was being moved to Solitude as well, he thought to himself. Ralof put his head and shuffled solemnly along with his fellow captives.

They walked shamefully through the city in lines, all chained and bound. Onlookers averted their eyes at the sight of them, while other Imperials cheered. Hot rage boiled inside Ralof and he felt like breaking one of these guard's skulls in. He forced himself to hold back and bit his tongue until it bled.

He spotted Susan shuffling along in another line a bit behind him. He was flooded with relief to see her alright. Besides a few scratches and such, she was relatively unharmed. Ralof tried to catch her eye and when he caught her attention he gave her a reassuring nod. She tried to smile, but it was halfhearted. The fire in her has been stamped out by defeat. This just made Ralof's rage flare ever higher.

They were loaded into wagons outside the city walls and Ralof found himself next to Susan. As they started to move, Ralof hooked a finger around one of hers.

"I'm going to get us out of this, m'lady," Ralof tried again at reassuring her. She sighed.

"What's the use? This end of the line. We've come so far and I think this is it."

"Now that doesn't sound like the Susan I knew 14 years ago at Helgen." Susan smiled more wholeheartedly this time and nodded. "Besides, I think I may have a plan in mind." She didn't answer, just looked straight ahead into space.

They traveled east then north along the road to Solitude. In the back of his mind, Ralof wondered why they were taking this route, as it was sure a good few miles longer. He did not care much, for it only prolonged his life. But he knew that if they didn't act soon, his time was surely running short. Very short.

About halfway from Winterhold to Dawnstar, the temperatures were below -20. For Ralof, it was barely noticeable. He felt fine, even in his sleeveless blue tunic. Susan on the other hand, wasn't fairing so well. Her face was as white as the swirling snow, and her ungloved fingers were blue. She was freezing. If she didn't get warm soon, he knew she wouldn't even make it to Dawnstar.

Ralof slowly sank to a state of blissful oblivion. His mind went into a sort of neutral, where no thoughts passed through it. He felt far away from the rest of the world, blocking reality out while he sat in the back of the wagon while Susan slowly froze to death. Only when the wagon bucked from hitting a large bump in the road and being flung from the wagon was he brought back to reality. Being in the back of the wagon with no side or railing to keep him in made it pretty easy for him to fall out, and he was aware that Susan had fallen out as well.

On instinct, Ralof lay motionless in the snow, letting the cold of it bite his face. After a moment, he heard the wagons come to a halt and a boot painfully prodded his side. He didn't budge.

"This 'uns dead," a gruff voice said from above him. "Must have been the cold."

"This one too." Ralof figured the other one was speaking of Susan, who lay a few feet away from him.

"What should we do with 'em?"

"Leave them. We haven't the time to bury them. If we do, the rest of the prisoners will freeze as well." There was a grunt of agreement and both men walked back to the wagons, their boots crunching loudly in the snow. Ralof's heart was in his throat as he waited for the carriages to be on their way again. Painful minutes passed, every second Ralof hoping against hope they wouldn't come back for them. After an agonizingly long time, the sound of creaking planks and hooves faded off.

Slowly, Ralof raised his head from the cold snow. They had escaped. Once again.


End file.
